


Roger's Number 1 Fan

by Pride_99



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Australian Open, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22508959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pride_99/pseuds/Pride_99
Summary: Roger returned to his room after the semifinals loss to Novak, and found an anonymous gift waiting for him.
Relationships: Roger Federer/Rafael Nadal
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	Roger's Number 1 Fan

**Author's Note:**

> So this is some idea I had during the Ausopen, hope you like it ; 3

The large bouquet of flowers was the first thing that caught his eye when he entered his hotel room.

Mirka came up and gave him a hug, gently asking how he felt. The finger on her lips told him that the kids were asleep, and he wrapped his arms around her back and whispered.

"I'm okay, still standing. Hey, what's that?" He eyed the bouquet that lay on the table and managed a smile, couldn't hide the tiredness though. 

"Apparently some fan of yours left it at our door."

"A fan? How did they know our room number?"

"Guess they had their way of finding. I saw there was a letter for you too."

Roger frowned and then chuckled. "That's… sweet? But a little creepy."

"Don't say that. It's nice. You should see what it says on the envelope."

That hardly aroused his curiosity though. She wanted to cheer him up, and he knew it, but after more than two hours of grueling fight with Djokovic and a lengthy press conference, the injury in his groin throbbed and his muscles ached all over. All he wanted was a good night's sleep.

Mirka sensed the resistance and didn't give him a chance to say no. He rubbed his temples with his fingers and watched somewhat helplessly as she went to the table and picked up the envelope. 

"Roger," She read, looking at him as he grimaced, "I hope so much you could win, because to me, you are always the only one deserves it."

A sudden shudder hit him with no warning.

"Wait, it said what?!"

"I just read it all?" Her eyebrows draw together as she blinked in bewilderment. "What?"

"Uh, let me see it?"

She shrugged and handed it to him. Roger grabbed it and gasped, staring at the tightly sealed envelope. The handwriting was not pretty, it was barely legible. But that very line touched a scar of his and awakened the burning memory. He was defeated here, at the Australian Open final, barely able to hold the tears, and someone next to him who was hugging the trophy whispered in halting English in his ear, something only for him to listen.

I hope so much you could win because to me you are always the only one deserves it.

Jesus. Rafa.

"What's wrong?"

He looked at her and swallowed hard. "Nothing. Just can't believe how creepy nowadays fans can be."

He turned his eyes back on the sizzling handwriting.

It was kind of like their secret, that awkward moment, except it was impossible to ask Rafa whether he remembered what he had said. It might also had been the real beginning of their friendship, at least to Roger. And now the words are lying on the paper staring at him, as if challenging him to open the envelope.

His palms were wet with sweat.

"Rog? Are you all right?" Mirka gave him a weird look. "What are you thinking about?"

"I… don't know." He opened his mouth but nothing came out. The thrill swept through him, sending shivers down his spine.

"It bothers you?"

"Yes. God, I mean, I lost in straight sets, definitely a disappointment to my fans… and this? It's just too much." He lied, stumbling.

"Stop beating yourself up. This is a nice surprise. Not gonna read the letter?"

Roger breathed out a sigh of relief and gave her a small apologetic smile. "No, not now. I'm really worn out."

With that she smiled and let him go. He saw her turn to collect things and hurriedly came into the bedroom clutching the envelope, almost tearing it open to take out the letter.

_I am your biggest fan, Roger, come to room 825 please? I think you need a massage._

Roger let out a sound and rushed out, almost ran into his wife. "What are you doing?" She was shocked. Roger searched his mind for excuses and scolded himself for coming up with nothing.

"I thought you were worn out?" She gave him a rather playful look.

" - Yeah. I was. I am. Let's - turn off the light and sleep."

She never asked more, and if Roger's being honest, he truly felt awful and pathetic in the midst of the immense thrill.

-

Roger could hardly believe that he really got into this. Waiting with a thumping heart until his wife was asleep and sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night? He was hopeless. He had to knock the door now, despite the butterflies in his stomach.

The letter was clutched in his hand. His knock sounded loud in the dead silent corridor, and it shocked him when he found the door was unlocked and pushed open. It was dark inside, and his heart stopped for a second when he reached the bed and found a sleeping Rafa, his head resting on his arm, strands of locks falling on his face.

Roger held his breath and sat on the bed, trying not to make any sound. But Rafa's sleep must had been light and he stirred almost immediately, sitting up and looking at the visitor with wide eyes.

Roger quickly put a hand over Rafa's mouth, pulling him closer and pressed their foreheads together. Rafa's breath was fast and hot in his palm, and then he dropped his hand, staring, and Rafa grabbed his face and kissed him. It was a sweet kiss, but only for a few seconds and it turned hot and filthy as Rafa deepened the kiss with intermittent strokes of his tongue. Roger made a weak groan from his throat as Rafa's hand moving all over him.

Pulling away, breathlessly, Roger found himself tightly pressed to the bed on his back and the Spaniard hovering over him was eagerly unbuttoning his clothes.

"Rafa," He gasped with a laugh. And Rafa looked up with a smirk, his energy sending a flurry of excitement.

"I have accepted you not gonna come. Or you not know it was me at all." Rafa smiled and nuzzled against Roger's nose.

"You expected me not to remember it?" He looked at the happy Spaniard seriously. "Rafa, you can't send me flowers and say that and expect me not to come! Where's my massage?"

Rafa laughed and hugged him, or rather, squeezed him tight into his arms. Roger felt like spinning. The truth is, the feel of the tight muscles of Rafa's arms pulsing against his neck and the gentle touch of fingertips on his face never really faded, and it took him some huge willpower not to think about them too often. He was quite successful at some point, except every year at Australian Open it came back, Rafa's whisper, and then he saw Rafa's eyes, full of tears but struggling to hold back.

"Raf, why now?" He breathed out the question. "I know that the thing between us is kind of delicate. But this? This…" His brain stopped working again.

"This you don't like?"

"No! I like it. You have no idea. But why now?"

"I thought I gotta give you something for you giving me tow heart attacks in five days." Rafa said as his fingers ghosted over Roger's thigh, "Those two five-set, you said to the press it was fun. Was fun? It was awful! I was very scared no?"

Hearing that, Roger couldn't help laughing and said, "You think I want it to be that hard? Besides, I never knew it was scaring you."

"You don't know? All your fans were very scared. I am your number one fan. I was most scared." He pouted as Roger started giggling, his eyebrows jumping up. "You said last year here that you're my number one fan, no?"

"Yes, I did." Roger stared at him in amazement, "I did, Rafa."

"Yeah, well, I'm yours too."

Roger sat up, his arms around Rafa's waist, his eyes soft with emotion. Rafa straddled his lap, their erections twitching through the thin fabric.

"I guess it's a shame I didn't make another surprise for you today." Roger muttered, and Rafa shook his head, his hand moving carefully on Roger's injured thigh. 

"You've been amazing. And now you done talking."

Rafa leaned for another kiss, and this time it was more of a clashing of teeth and eager tongues, a soft moan escaping Roger's mouth when Rafa bit down on his bottom lip. He was more turned on than he had ever been, gasping as Rafa kissed down his neck and took one of his nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it roughly. Roger shut his eyes with a hiss, shocked by how good it felt. He couldn't seem to gather enough air into his lungs as Rafa's hand found its way into his boxers, stroking his swollen cock slowly.

"Is good?"

"Yeah - Rafa, oh my god…" He watched as Rafa sank his head down until his cock was entirely encased in his mouth. It was so hot, and wet, and perfect, and he couldn't stop his hips involuntary movements and thrust upward, hitting the back of Rafa's throat. Rafa simply took it, swallowing around Roger's dick while running his tongue over the shaft in short licks.

"God, Rafa, I'm so close - "

Rafa stopped his motions, leaving Roger shaking with need. He looked up, meeting Roger's eyes, caressing his hard length with only the tip of his tongue and sent a dark thrill up Roger's spine along with yearning ache to his heart.

"Rafa, please don't stop… I need - " Roger's eyes were nearly black with lust. His fingers curled in Rafa's hair, encouraging him, pleading him for more. Rafa wrapped his fingers around the base of Roger's cock, rolling his balls as he took him back in his mouth and sucked. He bobbed his head up and down, licking hard at the slit.

Roger whined as he felt the heat and tension pool deep in his pelvis, his fingers tightening in Rafa's hair.

"Rafa, I'm gonna…" He didn't even get to finish the sentence before he was coming into Rafa's mouth so hard he saw stars, and Rafa didn't pull away, he swallowed it all down until Roger was empty.

Roger's head fell back as Rafa took as much of his seed as he could, and the sensation of Rafa groaning around his cock sent vibrations all up the length of his body, making his legs twitch in pleasure.

He eagerly pulled Rafa up, tasting himself on Rafa's tongue. It was probably the best feeling he'd had in a long time and he desperately wanted to make Rafa feel the same pleasure. He wrapped his fingers around Rafa's hard cock, his mouth drawing a hot trail of kisses over Rafa's back and neck, leaving marks where he could reach. 

"Roger," Rafa purred, his voice suddenly weak and soft, "Roger, please…" And Roger moved his stroke faster, squeezing, rubbing up and down. He could hear the blood in his ears, and the sight in front of him already made him half hard again.

Rafa melted in his hold, soft gasps and whines escaping his lips.

"Roger," And he chanted, "I-I love you," He whispered and gripped on the sheets and came hard.

Roger's heart skipped a beat. He looked down at the mess they made, feeling his lips dry.

"God, Rafa." He murmured, taking the Spaniard in his arms. "You said - You just said you love me? You mean it? Like…"

"Isn't it obvious?" Rafa blinked, pulling away a little so their eyes could meet. He searched Roger's face for any signs of discomfort, or fear, or disgust, but he found none of them. He opened his mouth again, hoping he wasn't going to make a fool of himself. "I mean it, Roger. Would be very ridiculous if I don't say it now, no? Or when do you think I should say - "

He went quiet as Roger gently put a finger to his lips. He saw the older man smile and blush. "You're right. I'm a fool." Roger said, his hand intertwining with Rafa's on the sheet. "I'm just too happy. I love you, too, Rafa, maybe too much, and I'm so happy you did this."

Rafa smiled widely. That smile gave Roger an impulse that nothing mattered more than seeing it. He felt their heaving chests. Each breath between them felt like a tug to one another as they happily pulled themselves over a cliff.

Still, it felt right.


End file.
